


the someday

by emullz



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 14:59:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16875012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emullz/pseuds/emullz
Summary: It was such a wonderful thing, to be known. It was especially wonderful like this, with Gansey in the driver’s seat of the Camaro pushed back as far as it would go, Blue on top of him with the collar of his overcoat tickling her ears and the steering wheel pressing into her back.bc why shouldn't blue and gansey kiss in the car like dumb teenagers?? (spoiler alert: ronan knows why not and he says so)





	the someday

**Author's Note:**

> hi i wrote this after rereading trc and having a mental breakdown bc the only bluesy kiss we get is a murder and that's annoying!!!!!
> 
> so i wrote my own. there's also emotional stuff in there but, like, who cares about that. enjoy:)

Blue had been dragging her lips across Gansey’s jaw for longer than she cared to admit. When she’d sworn off kissing anyone all those years ago, she’d only thought to mourn the press of mouth on mouth. Maybe, as she’d gotten older, the clash of tongues and teeth had slipped onto the list of Thing Blue Couldn’t Have, but. She’d never thought she was missing out on _this_.

 

This was the flutter of tired eyelids after a long drive in the Pig. This was the inside of his wrist, where his pulse throbbed in time with hers. And this—oh, Christ, _this_ —was the soft spot where jawbone turned to neck. When she bit down, it made Gansey’s breath hitch. She wanted to live forever in the noise of that sharp intake of air, the feeling of him alive and coming undone beneath her.

 

Sadly, his breathing returned to its normal rhythm. This meant he was cupping her face and bringing it level with hers, which wasn’t a total loss, but still. It was nice, she mused, to feel safe in her body when he was so near. And it was nicer still to feel safe and to have the added bonus of Richard Campbell Gansey III’s tongue pushing a mint leaf into her mouth.

 

“Are you trying to tell me something?” she asked, wishing her voice was less breathless teenager and more stern and experienced participant in kissing.

 

To his credit, Gansey honed in on Blue’s intended tone and pressed his forehead to hers. “No,” he said, not fully in control of his lungs either. “I suppose it was to remind you of our shared origins.”

Blue couldn’t help the lazy grin that spread across her face. She was born of a tree and wanted the stars, and here was a boy who contained a dream-forest inside of him. He knew what it was like, to be rooted in the ground yet still long for the sky. It wasn’t the only reason she loved him, but it certainly helped.

 

“I come from a much grander plant than a mint in a pot,” Blue retorted, and she could tell Gansey knew what she meant. He understood the togetherness she was feeling because he felt it, too. It was such a wonderful thing, to be _known_. It was especially wonderful like this, with Gansey in the driver’s seat of the Camaro pushed back as far as it would go, Blue on top of him with the collar of his overcoat tickling her ears and the steering wheel pressing into her back.

 

They had fought for this moment, and it was so sweet Blue could feel it throb like a cavity.

           

Ronan wasn’t as enamored with it as everyone else seemed to be. It wasn’t like they’d driven anywhere, they were in the lot when he pulled up. Leave it to someone like Gansey to discover some fucked up kink and not even try to hide it. At least, Ronan thought with a self-satisfied curl of his lip, when he and Adam fooled around in the BMW they were careening down the highway or parked amidst tire tracks in an abandoned field.

           

He went inside without mentioning it, though, because Gansey had waited a whole year for Blue to kiss him only to drop dead the minute it happened, and they deserved time spent being horny teenagers in a parked car. And, though he’d never admit it, it gave Ronan a gross thrill of happiness to catch them kissing and staying alive. Even if it meant picking up hair clips everywhere he stepped, because for some reason Gansey couldn’t keep his goddamn hands out of Blue’s ponytail. 

           

The inside of Monmouth Manufacturing was an absolute mess, and nobody was at the center of it. Ronan still caught himself using Noah to fill in every empty space he saw, but he stopped himself quicker now. It was Gansey who’d invited them all over for dinner (meaning Monmouth was where they’d meet before driving to pick up the Chinese), and Gansey who was too busy canoodling in his car to be on time. Adam was working and had said he’d meet them out. Cheng’s mother was in town, so he was eating the meal she cooked in her hotel kitchen and livetweeting how shitty it tasted.

           

Ronan kicked a half-empty water bottle clear across the room. Blue came in just in time to scold him for interacting with single-use plastic.

           

“You done vacuuming his face now?” Ronan growled. Gansey, to his credit, had not one iota of shame present on his face.

           

“Want me to do yours?” Blue asked, and didn’t wait for an answer before she darted over and, going on tiptoes, rested her chin on Ronan’s shoulder so she could kiss—correction, lick—the length of his cheek.

           

Ronan jerked back as hard as he was able without jostling her. “ _Christ_ , Sargent. You’re like a fucking dog.”

           

That was another thing about the past few weeks: it wasn’t just Gansey Blue was at liberty to kiss. Whenever Ronan got too close, he was in danger of getting caught in her shitstorm of kisses. Nobody was exempt, either. Not Adam, or Henry, or anyone else in the state of Virginia. It was endearing, until it wasn’t.

           

Gansey, though, let out a laugh that soared through the air and nestled in Ronan’s ear, reminding them both that he had lungs that were capable of laughing, and talking, and breathing. The spit Ronan wiped savagely off his cheek was a miracle, and he would not forget it. He could not forget it.

           

They’d put the seat up in the Pig, Ronan noted with satisfaction as he slid into the passenger’s seat. He wrestled with the vent in the vain hope that his fingers might feel less like cardboard and more like fingers. Winter meant stretched out days in the dark, Adam blurred into the background of the Barns, and fighting with the Camaro’s useless heating. It was a very Ronan time of year.

           

The Chinese food place was a quick drive, so Ronan tolerated the Christmas carol Gansey insisted on singing at the top of his lungs—Good King Wenceslas, because what other carol would Gansey be singing—and only told him to shut the fuck up when he started the song over upon catching sight of Adam in the parking lot. He was leaning against the hood of his tri-colored car, and Ronan’s guts did their familiar back handspring as he drew nearer. The tip of his nose was pink but the rest of him looked fine, Ronan noted with satisfaction. He’d been dreaming nothing but heavy sweaters and wool gloves for weeks, knowing that Adam would only take them if the department store tags were printed on leaves and came out of Ronan’s head.

           

Evidently Adam also accepted gifts from Blue: his hat was yellow and red thread knitted into an incomprehensible pattern, with white flaps pulled down over his ears. Blue grabbed one string looking delighted and Gansey grabbed the other, looking like he’d just swallowed something awful. The night was wide open.

           

They ate their food out of the carton, resting on the hood of the shuddering Camaro. Blue was tucked into Gansey’s side, sneaking bits of his lo mein. Ronan hooked his foot around Adam’s ankle to tug him closer, dumping all the broccoli he’d picked out of his container into Adam’s. There was a Noah-shaped hole in their circle and Ronan thought maybe there always would be. Blue filled it briefly by tugging Adam away from Ronan to tuck in hatstrings under his collar, keeping them away from the duck sauce on the corners of his mouth.

           

Ronan watched Adam accept the kiss Blue pressed against his cheek and the egg roll Gansey had ordered but no longer wanted. It made Ronan happy, so happy it surged through him like anger, as Adam turned to get something from his bag and unconcernedly turned his deaf ear towards the three of them.

           

It was a letter that he pulled out, the envelope thick and creamy, and he handed it to Gansey wordlessly. Ronan already knew what was inside; Adam had opened it the night before and called as soon as he’d gotten his breath back. Ronan wouldn’t have picked up, except he knew what day it was.

           

Gansey took one look at the return address and launched himself off the Pig’s hood and onto Adam. It took Blue a second longer but she was in on the tackle as soon as she realized. Ronan just leaned back, arms crossed, feeling proud. Proud, and empty. It was fucking dumb, because Adam was right there (albeit covered, at the moment, by Gansey and Blue), but Ronan was still working on rational feelings. Boston was far, and Ronan wanted Adam at home on the couch, drinking green tea and reading one of his stupid textbooks and trying to tell Ronan that if he would just listen he could learn something really interesting.

           

Adam finally managed to push his assailants off of him and roll back to his feet, stretching out a hand to Gansey, who was still whooping in congratulations. Blue left him to it and sidled up to Ronan. She bumped him lightly with her shoulder, a question. He shrugged in response, knowing even while he did it that she wouldn’t fall for it.

           

“He’s coming back,” Blue told him softly, and Ronan flinched at the familiar words.

           

It was hard to hear something you’d said over and over in your own head spoken by someone else, and still not believe it.

           

“I know that,” Ronan said. He did know it. “Doesn’t make getting left behind any easier.”

           

Blue didn’t say anything, just leaned her head on his shoulder. They both understood the precise ache of knowing everyone else got to do the leave, but Ronan was all too aware of the fact that he had the better deal. He wanted nothing more than for everyone he loved to stay put. Blue wanted to do some leaving of her own.

           

It turned out Gansey had rolled into a puddle and needed to be driven back to Monmouth. Adam reclaimed his envelope (in all the commotion nobody had actually read the “congratulations, you’ve been offered a place in next year’s class of” that Adam so coveted) and walked with Ronan back to the Hondoyota.

           

Blue had fully intended to be dropped off at Fox Way after dinner, but Gansey asked her to drive because he was shivering, and he asked her inside while he changed his clothes, “so you won’t be freezing in the Pig while I search for clean clothes.” She should’ve known he was going to yank off his shirt as soon as they got inside. She should’ve remembered what the sight of that boy’s shoulders did to her. She should’ve known that they would end up lying on top of his unmade bed, Blue relishing in the miles and miles of skin Gansey’s bare torso presented to her.

           

It wasn’t that she couldn’t control herself. It was that, now, she didn’t have to.

           

It struck Blue that kissing Gansey was better than she’d imagined. If you had asked, before, she would have said he’d be the confident one, the one pushing Blue against the mattress with his hands firmly around her waist. But Gansey didn’t kiss like President Cell Phone. It was like he was unmasked, unsure, undone. It was Blue who was always pressing, and Gansey who was yielding. It drove her crazy. When she whined, high in her throat, Gansey laughed into her mouth. That drove her crazier.

           

 After several long moments Blue pulled away and buried her face in the hollow of Gansey’s shoulder. “I have to go home,” she said, and the feel of her breath gave him goosebumps.

           

“I wish you didn’t,” he replied.

           

Blue groped for his cell phone on the nightstand, rolling off the bed when she realized it was most likely in the pocket of his discarded coat. When she grabbed it off the floor, she dialed the phone/sewing/cat room. Orla picked up. Blue moved the phone just far enough from her mouth to remain polite, and swore.

           

“Oh my darling Blue,” Orla drawled, “calling to delay curfew for your princeling—“

           

“Can you put Mom on?” Blue asked, voice sharp.

           

“Make sure you remember to use protection!” Orla’s tone had turned honey sweet. “I’m sure he can afford all kinds. Glow in the dark, and heat activated—“

           

“If you don’t put Mom on the phone I’m hanging up,” Blue warned, and Orla shouted once for Maura before continuing her list of novelty condoms. After five or six more flavors and colors, Blue threatened to leave once more. Orla huffed and said Maura had been making pâté and was on her way upstairs.

           

“You don’t want to come home,” Maura said, with a brusqueness Blue would’ve expected from Calla.

           

“I do want to come home,” Blue protested. “Just… later than I said I would. Like in an hour.”

           

Maura sighed. “You want to _now_. But I’ve been on the other end of this call before, Blue and I know what happens when you hang up.”

           

Blue glanced sidelong at Gansey, who was stretched out on the bed looking ridiculously like an oil painting. “The someday is implied, right?” she asked softly.

           

“Yes, your beautifully open face has made that very clear. See you tomorrow.” Blue muttered her goodbye and slipped the phone back in the coat pocket so she wouldn’t have to deal with it for a while.

           

The boy in question raised an eyebrow as Blue padded back to him, socked feet quiet against the concrete floors. “Someday?” he asked, and Blue hit him with a pillow for eavesdropping. The inquisitive expression remained.

           

“Just something I thought once, far too close to far too many psychics.” Blue turned pink, and then adjusted one of her hair clips as a way to pretend that she hadn’t. “She said I don’t have to come home tonight. If I, um. If I don’t want to.”

           

Gansey’s eyebrows shot up so fast they almost disappeared. He didn’t look eager, Blue mused just… surprised. And curious. Sometimes, as much as Blue protested, she liked when Gansey studied her like one of his artifacts. Being among their ranks didn’t always doom her to objectivity; it could also mean that she was complicated and lovely. Blue had always liked feeling complicated and lovely.

           

“Do you want to? Go home, I mean. I totally understand if you do.” Some of it was Gansey and some of it was practiced politeness, and the intrusion of the congresswoman’s son into the moment spoiled its fondness.

           

“Of course not,” Blue huffed, “that’s why I called her. Me staying over doesn’t have to be about…look. When we first started dating, or whatever it is we were doing before we found Glendower, Mom asked me what I wanted with you. And I remember thinking I wanted to be your best friend for as long as you’re around, and maybe someday have carnal knowledge of you.”

           

Gansey’s face had gone soft, and so bright Blue had to look away before she continued. “And so now, the kissing is great and we should definitely do more of it. And try new stuff, someday. But I’m not going to stop wanting to talk to you and become some swollen-lipped zombie who—why are you laughing?”

           

When Gansey was finally able to catch his breath, he scrubbed a hand over his face and said, “my sister is going to _love_ you.”

           

She punched him, but it wasn’t hard.

           

When they woke up, it was because sunlight struck them across the face. Blue rolled out of bed and tugged on Gansey’s canary yellow sweater to raid the fridge for yogurt. Gansey started searching the sheets for Blue’s hairclips. Adam called, and said he’d be right over. Nobody asked why, or what for, and by the time Ronan’s BMW roared into the lot Blue could feel the air thrumming. It didn’t matter where they went, or what they did. There was just them, and the gas pedal.

           

The day was wide open.

**Author's Note:**

> this was short and not what i usually write so pls leave feedback and let me know how i did slash if i should write more post trk stuff. come find me on tumblr (still emullz over there) ((if the site is even still working after all the females presenting their nipples took their powerpoints somewhere else)) if you want to chat. **i also talk A LOT about trc on chapterbychapter.blog- if you wanna reread the raven boys with me that's the place to go, bc i have a lot of feelings about it**
> 
> i hope you had fun watching our favorite boys (and blue) have a good time being in love with each other as much as i did, and thanks for reading!!!


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